


Ten Years Later

by writetherest



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetherest/pseuds/writetherest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Maybe it was destined to be this way. All three of them, in this dance – their own little ballet playing out right here, as it has been for over twenty years. She knows how it ends, but she enjoys it none the less, and she thinks the same can be said for her companions.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Years Later

They sit at a bar – again – and if he squints just so, through the haze and low light, he could swear that they're right back where they started, still fairly fresh faced and without quite so many disappointments and mistakes between them.

CJ swirls the straw in her drink, studying him through her eyelashes, like she used to do, back when she could make him fall in love with her with just that look. He's missed this, he thinks as he glances down at his watch.

"Got somewhere better to be?" CJ asks with that slow gin voice of hers that bars always seem to bring out.

"Molly's got a dance recital tonight." He tells her, lifting the scotch to his lips. “Ballet and tap."

"Toby," CJ sighs, her hand coming up to cover her heart in a gesture that still manages to squeeze his, "that's fantastic."

"She's good." He says, because she is and not just because she's his daughter. "Andy'll kill me if I'm late."

As well she should."

"You always took her side." He says, nostalgia in his voice.

"I always wanted to be on the winning team, you know that." She grins.

"Speaking of winning teams..." he finishes off the scotch and waves away the bartender – he will be perfectly sober to watch his daughter dance – before he finishes the thought, "Sam called Andy."

CJ's eyebrows go up just a bit, but other than that, she doesn't look surprised. "Vice?"

He nods. "She won't let me write for her."

"And well she shouldn't."

"Thank you, CJ." Andy smirks as she comes to stand next to them, her eyes scanning the bar before nudging Toby’s hip, forcing him off the barstool so she can sit down. "What did I tell you?"

"Always take her side." He mumbles, frowning at them, but there's a tug at the corner of his lips that they both know enough to see.

"He's been trying to put words in my mouth for years. I don't know why he thinks I'll let him start now." She picks up Toby's glass and tilts it, letting the ice clink together.

They stay in companionable silence for a few minutes, while CJ finishes her drink. When she sets it down on the bar, she looks over to them – Andy on the barstool and Toby behind her, hands hovering but not actually touching her shoulders. If she squints, and even if she doesn't, they're right back where they started.

Maybe it was destined to be this way. All three of them, in this dance – their own little ballet playing out right here, as it has been for over twenty years. She knows how it ends, but she enjoys it none the less, and she thinks the same can be said for her companions.

"Well, I believe you have a dance recital to get to." She smiles as she stands, squeezing Andy's hands and kissing Toby on the cheek, her lips lingering for just a second. She's missed this. "Give Molly my love. Huck too."

"Same to Danny and the baby," he says and she knows he doesn't really mean it – at least not the part about Danny, but she loves him for saying it anyway.

Then he puts his hand on the small of Andy's back and leads her out of the bar, with the ease of a man who has been doing it for twenty years. She waits until she's sure they're gone from out front, and then with the practice of twenty years, she walks out of the bar, alone with her head held high.  



End file.
